


Wings To Carry You Home

by mellovesall



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellovesall/pseuds/mellovesall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>World War II Olicity AU. Can a one time meeting amongst the chaos and danger of War be enough to allow love to take hold? </p><p>This is loosely based off the 1990 movie, Memphis Belle. Fic is Rated T for now, possible future M for violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

April 1943  
Allied Air Force Base, Bassingbourn, England  
World War II  
~~~~~

Captain Oliver J. Queen, lead American pilot of the "Green Archer," one of the US B-17 Heavy Aircraft Bombers or the Flying Fortresses as they were nicknamed; sat down with his co-pilot First Lt. James (Jim) Reed and Bombardier, First Lt. Baker (BB) Brightman at the front table of the briefing tent of the 324th Bomber Squadron, Bassingbourn, England. United States Army Air Force pilots worked and fought alongside Allied forces in the "Combined Bomber Offensive" to attain and maintain air superiority over Western Europe. They provided daylight precision bombing runs that complemented the RAF (Royal Air Force) British Bomber Command's nighttime area bombing missions.

Oliver's stomach twisted and churned with unease as he waited for the mission briefing to begin. He tried never to give in to the idea of fate or luck, however the war had taught him never to dismiss them.

He and his crew of 9 had one more mission to complete to meet their tour of duty requirement of 25 combat missions. One more mission before they could go back home. None of his crew really talked about their luck at surviving missions this long, they never wanted to jinx themselves, but every man thanked whoever they believed in for having done so. They were all so grateful for their flying fortress, the "Archer" and how she always, always got them home.

So many planes who carried so many friends never returned from their bombing runs and with each passing month of the war they were being sent further and further into enemy territory.

"Queen, you ready for a night out tonight?" was yelled from across the room to Oliver by his best friend, fellow Captain, Tommy Merlyn, who sat with his own crew. All the men in the room chuckled then soon sobered as they knew what a party boy Merlyn was and then their own thoughts turned to their own possible last night's alive.

Oliver smirked back at his friend, Tommy, before they all suddenly stood at attention as the base Commander briskly entered the room.

"At ease, gentleman. This is your target," Col. Benjamin Westcore said, as he quickly got to the point. He extended his pointer and tapped the small town located on the map that lined the wall behind him. "Ammunitions factory in Bremen, Germany. Be prepared for extensive defensive moves from the Germans on this mission. Intercepted messages out of Berlin indicate their build up of reinforcements to try and combat our day time bombing runs. I know you all know the risks, but I..want you to be even more vigilante. I need you to be. That will be all. You're dismissed and…good luck."

Oliver glanced towards his two crew members and at the dozens of other intense and serious faces in the room then over to Tommy as the mission was explained. They all shared the silent understanding that this was the furthest any of the crews had been sent into Germany and the magnitude of that.

Small, agile Spitfire fighters could only escort and offer the B-17s protection until their fuel maxed out and then the bombers were left to fend for themselves against enemy fighters. Left to find their targets and get the hell out of there in one piece.

Flight details, times and locations were distributed to the crews as they looked over the fuel and weather reports. Tomorrow morning, 0600, was go time.

~~~~

A tense, thick air of nerves pervaded the group as they left the briefing. It wouldn't last long though as they all would be looking for what could distract them from it. Or what could help them cope with their homesickness, their longing for a sweetheart or just, their fears.

"A tough one tomorrow, Oliver," Tommy said, as he walked alongside him as they made their way back to the barracks to relay the details to the rest of their crews. Yes, a tough one in more ways than one they both contemplated quietly. They were going deep behind enemy lines and it was the "Archer's" last mission. Oliver's last mission. God willing he would survive it. Missions flown averaged 65 % casualty and damaged aircraft losses. The war was ugly and yet, Oliver, Tommy, every man in the fleet, understood the significance of their jobs. They fought to preserve freedom.

Tommy and Oliver had first met in pilot training at George Army Field, Illinois. Two boys from different sides of the tracks. Tommy from a Southern family who was rich and not just in tradition and Oliver, raised by a single parent who worked all her adult life in a candy factory in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Oliver's father had died in a freak accident when Oliver was a small child and with the help of his parent's families, his incredible mother raised him to have an appreciation for strong, kind and intelligent women.

Tommy's special kind of brashness had melded nicely with Oliver's more quiet, thoughtfulness. Each balancing out the other to cement a lifelong friendship. Tommy's tour of duty in England started two months after Oliver's deployment. Unfortunately Tommy's mother had passed away after his training ended and when he and Oliver had met up again in Britain, there was a new air of maturity that came with his swagger. Losing someone you loved tended to do that.

"Nothing we can't handle, Tommy," Oliver replied, as he slowed down to look out across the airfield that housed their aircraft and the beauty of the lush, green meadows of the English countryside. Who would have thought this small serene town would be a gateway to a battlefield.

"That's right. We're birds of prey." Tommy murmured in agreement as they looked at each other and shared a moment of camaraderie. The kind only men who went into battle together could really understand.

"Well, let's get this mission organized and then you my friend are going out with us tonight. No, no arguing. We all need to enjoy ourselves tonight," Tommy said as he patted Oliver on the back and started walking towards the lights of the barracks. "By the way, drinks are on you tonight."

Oliver shook his head in humor as his best friend made him crack a smile as usual. Oliver wasn't really interested in going out, but he knew Tommy was right. Their men would need a moral boost after they were told where the target would be. Oliver didn't have a girl waiting back home for him and sometimes he just missed seeing a woman's sweet smile or the lovely scent her perfume. Perhaps he could find someone to share a dance with him tonight. To give him a nice memory to hold onto. One to take with him in the morning. One to take into the skies.


	2. Chapter 2

Felicity Smoak, only child and a late in life surprise to an older couple, who encouraged her to reach for her dreams, sat at a table with her co-workers chatting and enjoying her evening out. The local town hall had live music every Friday night where lots of alcohol, flirting and dancing happened amongst the military, civil servant personnel based nearby and the local population. The stresses of the war needed to be relieved if not forgotten for a few hours. The sounds of a full orchestra playing current hits from Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman and Tommy Dorsey filled the room which got Felicity’s toe tapping and her evening started off on a perfect note.

She rubbed the stiff muscles of her neck as she giggled at a joke made about the canteen food at the tech lab she worked at. ‘Mystery meat, Friday’ was always a topic of fun. The effects of too many hours of bending over a stereoscope, which in essence allowed you to read photo images with increased depth perception and was a tool of Felicity’s trade; added up after a long shift and what she wouldn’t give for a shoulder rub right now.

Felicity worked in the Photographic Reconnaissance Unit (PRU) based in Bassingbourn. She performed careful analysis of reconnaissance aerial photographs and she loved what she did. The war was horrible with terrible losses of life and if she could help prevent even one death she was incredibly fulfilled. She had volunteered for the British Women's Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) right out of University and was assigned to this job of a lifetime. The photographs she and her co-workers studied and analyzed with the help of geologists, mapmakers and mathematicians helped upper command make important troop and battle decisions. She marveled at the risks pilots took to get the aerial photographs of enemy territory to her department, so the least she could do was be as fearless and do her best to protect the military forces involved in the battles by being as detailed and meticulous in her review of enemy land mass and troop movements as she could be.

“Here come the flyboys, Felicity. Hold onto your knickers,” her friend Laurel said, as they watched a group of boisterous American soldiers from the local pilot squadron walk in. Their distinctive four pocket olive green uniforms with brass buttons and bomber squadron patches stood out in the crowd of blue British uniforms.

There weren’t too many things more gorgeous in life than a man in uniform, but Felicity had grown to be a lot more guarded with her heart. A few of her friends had met and fallen in love with men they met during the war and so many of them had been killed. So many good men were dying for the safety and security of their countries.

“No worries Laurel, I haven't met one yet who could even get close to my knickers,” Felicity replied as she took a sip of her beer and laughed with her good friend.

Felicity had met Laurel Lance on her first day at work at the PRU lab and after learning they had grown up only a few villages away from each other, they had bonded over shared country life experiences and being young, intelligent woman wanting more out of life than just getting married and raising kids. Not that Felicity didn't want those things, but she wanted them and more.

Both women had yearned to do their part in the war movement and to protect their country and the soldiers who marched into the danger. The excitement generated by the need for women outside of the kitchen was exhilarating as well as profound and satisfying. The fact that their country now acknowledged a woman's worth beyond raising a family was heartening to those who had wanted more opportunities and jobs for both sexes.

Women now contributed to over 36% of the work force in Britain as their fathers, husbands and brothers had gone off to fight in the battle front.

They now worked in munitions, shipbuilding and airplane factories and as air-raid wardens, fire and evacuation officers. They even drove fire engines, trains and trams. Even some trade unions like those representing engineers began to admit female members.

So, even if life felt like it was falling apart because of the war, it also was a time of remarkable change.

And then there were things that would never, ever change.

“Well, hello ladies,” came a flirty american accent from behind Felicity and Laurel as an attractive soldier, with dark hair and blue eyes, leaned in between them. Felicity started to roll her eyes as the Yank turned on his charm and smiled at Laurel. A Yankee or Yank for short, was a term ‘affectionately’ used for American soldiers by the British.

Felicity didn’t have anything against the Americans, in fact the entire country was grateful to have the support of many of their Allies across the world, but the Yanks could have a certain forwardness that depending on the man dishing it out could be found entertaining or a bother. And apparently, this American was most certainly not bothering Laurel as she agreed to have him bring over the rest of his friends to join them at their table.

Chairs were being moved and brought over as four more pilots came to sit down. Felicity was watching all the commotion when a deep, velvety voice asked if the seat next to her was taken. As Felicity looked up the long, trousered legs and followed the lean, fit line of the man’s uniformed body she was about to say no, till she met his eyes and then couldn’t say a word. Not one single word.

My god the man was incredibly handsome. Dirty blond hair cut short and close to his head with a jawline that was pure male and slightly darkened for the need of a shave. His eyes were bluer than any beach Felicity had ever visited as a child and even though there were laugh lines around them, they held what seemed to be the weight of tremendous responsibilities.

“Yes..I mean...no, I...sit,” Felicity was finally able to spit out as the man seemed to drink in everything about her. A shiver of awareness ran across her body as if he had physically touched her. It was odd, that instead of making her feel uncomfortable, his attentions made Felicity feel...safe. How could a man who was a complete stranger make her instantly feel at ease?

He was tall and as he folded himself into the chair next to her, Felicity felt like the entire room disappeared. She didn’t hear any more of the orchestra playing or the noises of the crowd. Everything seemed to narrow down to one fine focal point and then that exquisite focal point said, “Hello,”

“I’m, Oliver Queen. It’s very nice to meet you,”

  
“Oh,” Felicity said as she automatically placed her hand into the large one he offered in greeting and his warm, slightly calloused skin met hers.

~~~~~

Oliver sat smiling at the beautiful blonde, who wasn’t much of a talker and who still held onto his hand with a soft grip, and just took in the moment. She wore the uniform of the British Women's Auxiliary Air Force very, very well. She was lovely with her hair parted on the side with curls that flowed around her face and beckoned to be touched. He loved how her eyes darkened into a gray blue when they had touched and the way her lips, that were a deep shade of ruby red, parted with a sigh as she smiled back at him. She seemed to be just as taken with him as he was with her.

“And your name is?” Oliver prompted as he looked into her eyes and gently squeezed her hand.

“Smoak, Felicity Smoak. Sorry, I’m quite embarrassed. I normally never have a problem with talking. In fact, most of the time people tell me I tend to ramble and have to tell me to...stop,”

Oliver couldn’t help a small laugh as she realized she had in fact been rambling and had stopped. She really didn’t need to stop he thought. He had been enjoying her accent and the way her face was so openly expressive. She was endearing and a breath of fresh air. Oliver felt lighter and freer than he had in a long time.

“Nice to meet you, Felicity Smoak. May I buy you a drink?”

“I’m okay right now, thank you,” She replied as she realized that they were still holding hands. She started to pull her hand from his and Oliver...didn’t want the connection to end so soon. He hoped it wouldn’t.

“Then, would you like to dance?”

“I...I would like that very much,” Felicity said before he stood up and while still holding her hand helped her out of her seat and led her to the dance floor.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The song I chose for their first dance is from the Agent Carter s2 finale. Wonderful song. Also, some of you may not agree with a decision that Oliver makes in this chapter, but he wouldn't allow me to write him any other way.

~~~~~

Oliver Queen was just as stunning from behind as he was from the front, Felicity mused as she followed him to a spot at the edge of the crowd of couples moving on the dance floor.

How did she end up here? Who would have thought her week would end in the company of such an attractive man. His uniform was crisp and straight and his profile was swoon worthy as she stared at him while he led her along. He was an officer, the Captain bars on his lapel gave that away. She liked the fact that he hadn't shown off his rank when he’d introduced himself. Oliver Queen was an interesting man.

The orchestra began to play one of Felicity’s favorite songs called, ‘Oh, But I do’ and a wave of adrenaline coursed through her. She loved music, but perhaps her excitement was caused by more than just the song she thought with a smile. The cheers from the crowd reflected what a favorite the tune was to many others as well. It was dreamy and romantic and it made Felicity think of love and..flying. Life could be full of coincidences and memorable moments and Felicity knew... that this dance, with this handsome american pilot, to a song that talked of flying high on love, was going to go into her diary as soon as she got home.

He still held her hand, his fingers intertwined loosely with hers. Small tingles ran up her arm as he turned back to face her and slowly pulled her towards him. Goodness, he was handsome. He lifted her hand and cradled it in his own while he placed his other hand gently on the middle of her back as he started to sway them to the music. His touch on the small of her back...it felt, nice. It felt..right. Why was he so different from any other man she had met before? She didn’t know the answer to that, but he was.

He was also a wonderful dancer and they both got lost in the music. As they merged into the crowd, Felicity was pushed closer to the warm, firm planes of his body and couldn’t hide her reaction. Wow, her hormones were on overdrive.

“You're shaking,” he whispered down to her as she lifted her face up to his. “Are you okay? I'm harmless, just a Yank who enjoys dancing with a beautiful woman.”

Felicity’s heart fluttered faster at his compliment and the way his eyes twinkled with light humor and yet, she could still see something behind all of it. A seriousness, a heaviness that she wanted to soothe away.

“I'm not nervous. I'm excited. I mean who wouldn’t be. You're the one who's beautiful.” Felicity said before she could stop the words from coming out. As she turned pink in embarrassment she watched as her words made this very masculine man, blush too.

“And goodness you smell good, like wonderful chocolate...I just said that out-loud didn't I? I am going to just stop talking now.”

A brilliant smile lit up his entire face and his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes held, they held not a tinge of melancholy, just pure pleasure now.

He leaned closer and said, “Yes, you did and I just received a care package from home. It's my new handkerchief,”

At Felicity’s look of confusion Oliver continued.

“My mother works at a candy factory and everything from home always smells of sugar or cocoa and...love,” he replied softly with a tender, wistful look. A look full of good memories. Felicity could relate to that.

“My mom likes to bake. Not as often now with all the war rationing, but every time I go home she somehow pulls something together as a treat for me and the house smells so good. What does your Dad do?”

“He died when I was little, so I don't remember him. We have pictures around the house and my family likes to tell me stories about him, so in a small way I feel like I know him.”

“I'm sorry Oliver, I couldn't imagine not having my father around. He's a bit of a bookworm and he loves music. I think my love for it comes from him. Some of my fondest memories are of him dancing with my Mom in our small living room. He has the habit of taking her in his arms at the oddest moments and just humming a tune. “

“Don’t be sorry. Your family sounds wonderful.”

The next second the fast tempo of a Duke Ellington tune started and Oliver surprised Felicity by swinging her into a turn and then dipping her. Laughter came out of both of them as thoughts of the danger and fears of war disappeared and feelings of family and love and fun took over.

They danced some more and talked with the others back at the table for most of the evening. Felicity got to meet the flirty American soldier, Tommy, Oliver’s best friend, who only had eyes for Laurel. Felicity had a moment of trepidation at the joy of the evening and the way both she and her best friend were caught up in the wonder of meeting someone special. She thought of girlfriends who had lost their beaus to the war and before the fear took too much hold...she pushed it aside. Tonight wasn’t the night to think of possible loss or regrets for having grown attached to someone...it was a night of magic.

As Oliver and Tommy got up to order a few more drinks at the bar, Laurel and Felicity shared a smile and bent their heads together for some quick girl talk.

“Oliver seems really nice, Felicity. A little quiet for my taste, but dreamy,”

“He’s really dreamy isn’t he Laurel?” Felicity replied back as she watched the men chatting at the bar.

Laurel placed her hand over Felicity’s and with serious eyes quietly whispered, “Tommy mentioned they have a dangerous mission tomorrow, Felicity. Did Oliver tell you?”

“No, he didn’t. Tomorrow?”

Why hadn’t he said something to her? Was he afraid to talk about it? She knew pilots could be very superstitious. A friend had dated a pilot who always carried a lucky stone in his pocket during missions. Perhaps Oliver had come tonight to forget tomorrow for a few hours. Felicity could understand that. The flashes of solemness she had seen in his eyes now made sense.

“Yes, first thing in the morning,” Laurel replied as she squeezed Felicity’s hand in reassurance.

~~~~~~~

Oliver glanced down at his watch, as Tommy asked for two beers from the bartender, then back at the table where Felicity and the others sat. He struggled with wanting to stay as long as he could with Felicity in this bubble of wonderful and the need to get back to base and go through the mission specs one more time. He wanted to be completely prepared for tomorrow and not just for himself, but for his crew. He needed to bring them home safely and he would. His responsibilities won out.

“Tommy, I’m going to head back to base. I just need to do one more review of the mission,” Oliver said as Tommy turned around with his hands full of beer glasses.

There was a short pause as both men shared a look of understanding and Tommy replied, “I’ll see you soon. I just want to stay a little longer,”

“Okay,”

~~~~~~~~

Felicity could tell something had changed when Oliver sat back down. His light heartedness had turned serious.

“Do you need to go?” Felicity asked softly, as she looked into his eyes. Eyes that showed a gratefulness for her insight.

Oliver shook his head yes and asked, “Walk with me to the bus stop?”

Felicity nodded yes and they stood up to leave.

“Laurel, I’ll be back, okay?” Felicity said as Oliver said his goodbyes to Tommy and those left at the table.

~~~~~~

Oliver strolled quietly beside Felicity as they walked the one block to the town square where a military bus came every hour to take soldiers back to the base. The night was so peaceful and the sky so clear the stars blinked overhead brightly. A calm before a storm he thought. Tomorrow loomed close.

Oliver stole quick, shy glances at Felicity. He wanted to memorize every curve and nuance of her. He hadn’t wanted to talk about tomorrow and the risks and his fears. He had gone out tonight to enjoy life and to hopefully make good memories. And she had done that for him. She was a moment in time that would stay with him.

As they reached the bus that was idling nearby while a small group of people lingered outside, some of them smoking or laughing and kissing their dates goodbye, Oliver gently touched Felicity’s hand to get her to stop and turn to him.

“I really enjoyed meeting you, Felicity,”

“I really enjoyed meeting you too, Oliver,” Felicity replied and after a second she slowly moved closer and stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

Oliver wasn’t expecting a kiss and it was...perfect.

“Um, would you like to meet up next Friday for a dance?” She asked, a hopefulness in her voice that Oliver didn’t have the heart to spoil or take away. He wanted to have that hopefulness too. She shared that with him just like she had generously shared her laughter and enjoyment of the evening with him tonight. He wanted to believe he would come home tomorrow. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t want to worry her either. She deserved better than that.

“I would like that very much. If I’m off duty, I’ll be there,”

“Then it’s a date. I mean not a date date, I mean it’s a day we’re deciding on,” Felicity nervously rambled on as Oliver gave her one last smile.

“Be safe, Felicity,” Oliver said softly as the bus horn went off and the other soldiers begun to board.

Oliver sat down in the back seat and waved to Felicity as the bus pulled away. He stayed watching till he could no longer see her.


	4. Chapter 4

Two hours later, Oliver blinked the ache and burn from his eyes as he folded the letter he had finished writing to his mother and addressed it. 

Soldiers were encouraged before every mission to make sure their wills, life insurance policies and family letters were up to date and in order.

Oliver put the envelope on top of a small stack of others and placed them in his wooden military issued foot locker that contained his personal belongings like his uniforms, a shaving kit and small knick knacks like a metal lighter, a favorite Life Magazine, spare boot laces and letters from home.

He stretched and yawned as he begun to undress and get ready for bed. He had done everything he could to prepare. Now, he just needed to survive. He had a “date, date” to come back to.

~~~~~~

“Brakes?”

“Check,”

“Intercoolers?”

“On,”

Oliver went down the pilot checklist with his co-pilot, First Lt. Jim Reed as the rest of his crew went about their own checklists and preparations for take off. 

Weather over the target had been forecasted to be partly cloudy, so the mission was a go.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as take off time fast approached. The slight chill of the early morning made the heavy leather bomber jackets the crew wore a bit easier to wear. Once they breached 10,000 feet into the clouds the uniform would be further appreciated against the freezing temperatures of altitude that high. 

The background voice of his radio operator, Sgt. Pete Dennis, testing the airplane radio with the control tower could be heard. “Tower, this is Victor, Romeo, 14, do you read?”

“Loud and Clear, Victor Romeo, 14,”

“All right, everyone check in,” Oliver asked over the aircraft’s internal radio system.

“Tail Gunner, check,”

“Right Waist Gunner, check,”

“Left Waist Gunner, check,”

“Bombardier, check,”

Oliver listened to the familiar voices of all 8 of his crew as they checked in. They were the best of crews. The best of men. He couldn’t have asked for a more cohesive team to watch his back. He took a moment to run his hand along the metal that framed the panel that displayed his flying gauges and instruments. 

He pressed his palm down on the cold surface and said a silent “thank you” to the plane that always took care of him, the “Green Archer.” One more time baby, we've got one more mission and then you can rest, he quietly told her. Then you can rest. Oliver swallowed back the emotion he held for his plane and took a deep breath to center his thoughts. The image of a dancing, light hearted Felicity made him smile and calmed him.

A red flare was fired into the air by the control tower signally official commencement of the mission. Oliver sent out a private prayer for his crew, Tommy and all the men going into battle today.

“Jim, you ready?” Oliver asked, as he glanced over at his co-pilot in the right seat of their small, compact cockpit. Jim was a good friend and Oliver trusted his instincts as a pilot. You wanted a man like Jim going into a mission.

“Ready,” Jim shook his head, yes, as they both proceeded to turn on the sequence of switches that would start the first of 4 engines. 

“Crew, prepare for take off,” Oliver directed into his radio mouthpiece as engine one started, than engine two and so forth. The entire plane shuddered and vibrated as the four massive engines roared to full strength. Raw horsepower of the Archer made adrenaline coarse through each crew member. A couple of them made the sign of the cross as others felt for their good luck charms to make sure they had them. Charms like a medallion, a scarf from a gal back home and even a rubber band wrapped exactly two times around a left wrist. As long as they had them, things would work out. That’s why they were called lucky charms.

“Victor, Romeo, 14, you are clear for takeoff. Give ‘em hell boys,” came the voice of the tower operator into the official squadron radio channel.

Oliver pushed the throttles forward and the engine thrust pushed the Archer into her last mission over Europe. 

39 fellow B-17s roared to life all along the tarmac of the airport including Tommy’s plane the “Bird of Prey.”

Flocks of birds flew overhead scared off by the intense noise and vibrations of the fortresses coming to life. The nearby farmers’ fields of grain rippled in waves from the engine gusts as the bombers begun to move and form a line on the runway. 

Oliver and the rest of his squadron would be rendezvousing with over 300 other B-17s from North and South Britain for a combined bombing mission to Germany. To try to confuse the Germans as to where the exact mission target would be; mass numbers of planes were sent out and routed in 3 different directions as they cleared Britain. The size of the bombing campaigns were tremendous. 

 

~~~~

“5 miles pass Brighton, Captain,” the Archer’s navigator’s voice came over the intercom as the planes entered the English Channel and their rendezvous point.

“Roger that,” Oliver acknowledged the message and put his oxygen mask on. 

Thirty minutes into the mission and they had finally reached their cruising altitude of 10,000 feet. 

“Crew, put on your oxygen masks and remember not to touch your guns without your gloves. Time to test your guns.” Oliver commanded as the squadron settled into formation and gunfire could be heard. 

Small, fast Allied fighter jets came into view soon after and settled in near the bombers. They would be a protective escort for as long as they could. The B-17s were a fortress that contained eleven 50-cal. machine guns mounted all around her fuselage as well as carrying up to 17,000 lbs of bombs to be dropped. Even with all that gun power they were bulky and slower compared to enemy fighters.

“Our little friends are here,” Jim said over the internal plane radio as everyone looked out their windows and spotted the Allied fighter jets.

The lead B-17 of the mission, whose Bombardier would lead the squadron over the target and begin the drop of bombs, was named “The Liberty” and Oliver knew the crew well. Their Captain was known for his dry, quick humor. 

“Captain can we listen to the AFN while it lasts?” Pete asked over the comms as he found the Armed Forces Network music coming through loud and clear. At least till they got too far out of range of the mainland.

“For a few minutes, Pete.” Everyone keep your eyes open we’re nearing enemy territory,”

The pleasant sounds of dance music came across everyone’s comms and they were able to forget where they were for a short time. 

“Bogie, 3 o’clock,” was yelled, over the radio as enemy fighters were spotted. Gunfire exploded as a dogfight commenced all around them. Sounds of war and bullets and blood spilling filled the air. They remembered where they were now. 

“Incoming, 5 o’clock,” came from the tail gunner as he let out controlled bursts of bullets.

“3 at 9 o’clock,” hundreds and hundreds of bullets spewed through the air as enemy fighters zipped in and around the bombers trying to take them down.

“Got one coming in fast, 1 o’clock high,” came from the Archer’s right side waist gunner. 

“Come on, come on, closer...gotcha!” 

Smoke came out from the tail of the enemy fighter as it was hit and lost control. It began its downward spiral towards the ocean. 

As Oliver’s crew watched the fighter go down it clipped the tail of “The Liberty” and broke the B-17 in half. Screams of the crew of “The Liberty” could be heard over the official squadron radio as their fortress dropped through the sky in two pieces.

“Oh my god,”

“Any parachutes? Call out as you see them,” Oliver instructed his crew as they all watched in shock and waited to see if there were to be any survivors.

“Come on, get out. Get out,”

“I see two, there’s two, Cap,” 

“Pete, write that down in the log,” Oliver instructed so they could pass that on to command for rescue information.

“Captain, that makes us the lead aircraft,” Jim said, over the Archer intercom as he looked at Oliver stunned and shocked from the loss of friends.

Oliver took several deep breaths as gunfire continued all around and the pieces of “The Liberty” fell from view. He hated this war.

~~~~~

“Navigator, current location?” Oliver asked as he assessed the situation. 

“That's the Third Reich down there, Captain,” came the slightly shaky voice as the plane entered German occupied Europe and the allied escort fighters continued their dogfight and downing of enemy fighters. They drew the fighters back towards the water as the B17s continued advancing. The fortresses were now on their own.

“This is the Captain of the Green Archer, assuming lead aircraft position,” Oliver said short and concisely over the squadron radio channel of the remaining armada of fortresses counting on him. Emotion had no place in that moment. The mission was the priority.

As the Archer took over as the lead aircraft, flak from ground anti-aircraft guns began firing into the air. The Archer shook from the massive force of explosions all around it. Black puffs of explosions caused massive turbulence as the B-17 took a beating.

The planes could not go higher than 10,000 feet if they wanted to be able to see their targets below, so enemy flak artillery was dangerous and deadly. 

German fighter jets deployed by nearby German bases were now descending on the squadron once again. The fortresses were being hit on all sides. Two more B-17s were shot down as they fought their way to their target. 

Neither of them were Tommy’s, thank god, Oliver thought. He was still going. 

“10 minutes to target, Captain,” 

“Bombardier, prepare for assuming control over the plane,” commanded Oliver as the crew prepared for First. Lt. Baker Brightman, BB, to take over flying the fortress as he looked through his scope to find the target and drop his bombs. After the Archer released her bombs the rest of the squadron would drop theirs in sequence. Hundreds of bombs would be let loose.

The Archer shuddered as flak hit the right side of her fuselage. Holes and bent metal were left behind.

“Assuming control…..now, Captain,” came, BB’s, calm clipped voice. Oliver hated the dangerous minutes where he had no control over his plane, but that was necessary for the precise and safe release of bombs over targets. They were all there to win the war, but not at the cost of innocent lives if at all possible. Bombardiers had the sole responsibility of locating the correct targets.

“There’s too much cloud cover,” BB said with nerves of steel. Oliver had to smirk at BB’s resoluteness. He had the best crew. 

“BB, we only have minutes till we’re pass target range,” Oliver said, reminding the bombardier of nothing he didn’t already know. It would be incredibly dangerous to have the squadron turn around and make a second attempt. Too damn dangerous. Oliver closed his eyes to see a pair of beautiful blue grey ones smiling back at him.

“I can’t see clear enough….wait, here we go,” BB said, as a hole in the clouds miraculously opened and the two distinct rectangle buildings of the ammunition factory came into focus directly below.

“Releasing,” BB said, as hundreds of bombs dropped and one after the other each B-17 released their payload on the enemy city of Bremen.

“Archer back to you, Captain,” BB said, as he sat back and released the breath he’d been holding. He sat back and thanked god for the break in the clouds. Mission accomplished.

“Roger that, BB. Let’s head home boys,” Oliver said, as they corrected course to head back towards Britain.

The explosive flak was getting heavier as the fortresses made their way around the city they just bombed. The sky was literally black with exploding gunpowder. Three of the B-17s towards the back of the flying formation were lagging slowing behind from aircraft and or engine damage. 

Everyone knew that the laggers were prey for predators. Once they could no longer keep up with the rest of the squadron formation, enemy fighters could easily go after them. Just like a predator stalking a herd of cattle. The weakest calf were always victims.

“Incoming fighters,” came from the left waist gunner as he started firing 50 caliber bullets and the empty bullet shells fell all across the floor of the plane.

Enemy gunfire lit up the entire side of the Archer leaving holes and damaging engine one of the left side of the plane. The jolt was swift and the plane dropped in altitude.

“2 o’clock high,” came the right waist gunner as more fighters descended on them.

Flak hit the right side engine and it caught fire.

“Intercoolers on Captain,” automatically yelled Jim, as he immediately turned on the extinguishers trying to kill the fire in the right side wing. It didn’t do any good, the flames increased.

“We’ll need to dive, Captain,” Jim said, as he looked to Oliver and nodded that it was the only way to kill the fire.

“Crew, we need to dive to put out the engine fire. Hold on,” Oliver relayed to the rest of the crew who were busy firing guns behind him.

Oliver and Jim started the nose dive that would cause the Archer to accelerate straight towards the ground. Each second they fell through the sky brought them closer and closer to possible death. The flames started to stutter and go out, till finally they did completely.

“Up, up,” Oliver directed as both he and Jim pulled their yokes back as hard as they could. The Archer shook in distress at the change in direction and acceleration.

They leveled off but the plane was damaged. With only two working engines and flak damage to the tail they limped their way behind the squadron formation that was already far ahead of them.

Before Oliver could formulate a plan an enemy fighter jet came at them. He was targeting their engines. Engine 3 on the right side was shot out leaving them crippled with only one engine and the plane began to drop immediately.

“He’s too fast, I couldn’t get him,” called out the waist gunners as they tried their best to down the enemy fighter that may have just killed them.

Oliver could see the English Channel in the horizon. They were going to have to try and land in the water. 

“Crew, we’re losing altitude and speed rapidly. Throw your guns and everything of weight out the sides,” Oliver needed to try and get the plane on the water. They had to lighten the weight of the aircraft as much as possible. Their airspeed was decreasing at an alarming rate. 

“Mayday, mayday, this is Victor Romeo 14, I repeat mayday. Emergency landing, south of the English Channel over Holland,” Oliver said into the radio. The plane wasn’t going to make the water.

“Crew, assume ditching position, NOW,” 

Everyone except Oliver and Jim ran to the radio room and hunkered down in a group on the floor and braced for impact.

It came fast. It came hard. And all went black.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm going to be on vacation next week, so the next chapter will be delayed a week. Sorry!

~~~~~~

It wasn’t a typical Monday. It was one that was three days since she’d last seen or heard from Oliver Queen. Felicity was having a difficult time concentrating on anything, especially at work. She pushed the pair of glasses, that she only wore for reading, up higher on her nose as she tried to look over the latest photographs sent in to her department.

She knew Laurel was just as tense. She hadn’t heard from Tommy Merlyn either. It wasn’t as if Felicity had asked Oliver to contact her, but the fact that Tommy had told Laurel that he would contact her, and had not...was worrisome. Were they okay? When Sunday had come and gone with no word both she and Laurel tried to remain positive. Felicity tried to process why she cared so much and it really came down to…Oliver was a good person and there was just something about him. Something in him had connected with something in her.

“Felicity,”

Felicity turned as she her heard her name to see Tommy Merlyn standing in the doorway of her lab office. A bandage wrapped around his head with the left side of his face badly bruised. He was still handsome, maybe even more so for being alive and in front of her.

“It looks worse than it is,” Tommy said with a tiny lop-sided smile at her look of concern.

“I don't believe that. It's so good to see you Tommy. Laurel…,” Felicity said as she walked towards him and glanced at the doorway hoping to see Oliver.

“I just came from talking with her, she knows I'm okay, and she said I would find you in here. No, Felicity, Oliver isn't with me,” Tommy said softly as he noticed her looking behind him and then gingerly sat down at the table that Felicity pointed to as he spoke. He sighed with relief of getting off his feet.

“I'm sorry, Felicity. I’ve been under observation for the last 48 hours for a mild concussion and I've only been able to get off the base to tell Laurel I was okay. My crew and I had a difficult landing when one of our wheels didn’t come down…and I need to tell you about Oliver,”

“I’m so grateful you're okay, Tommy…is he okay?” She whispered almost too afraid to hear the answer.

“Felicity, Oliver has been listed as Missing In Action.”

“Missing In Action?”

“This mission was deep into German territory and the risk was even greater than normal. His plane went down as we were on our way home. The tower received a mayday call as he flew over German occupied Holland, but no word since then,”

“You can’t give up hope, Felicity. I’m not. He’s MIA. We don’t know if he’s dead. We don't,” Tommy said, as he placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. Tommy’s strength seeped into her as his look of determination did not waiver. Felicity squeezed back with her hope strengthening as well.

“And I have something for you,”

“For me?”

“Oliver left me instructions that if he didn’t return from the mission that I was to make sure his letters were delivered. He wrote one for you. I struggled with the decision to send these letters out. I haven't given up on him, but...I don't know if and when I'll be sent out on another mission Felicity. And I...I wanted to make sure you have his letter, in case something happens to me,” Tommy shakily held an envelope towards her and Felicity didn't want to take it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her as she slowly took it from his fingers.

“You don't have to open it. I just needed to make sure I honored his wishes. He's not dead, Felicity. He's not…. I need to get back to Laurel. I had asked her if I could talk with you in private. I’ll let you know any news that I get of Oliver. I promise Felicity,”

“Tommy?”

“Yes,”

“Thank you,” Felicity said as she watched him stand up and slowly walk out the door.

Felicity ran her finger on the top of the envelope as she turned it over and looked at the strong, masculine scrawl of her name on the front.

What could he have possibly written to her?

He was okay. Yes, he was okay. She wouldn't think otherwise. Wouldn't the world feel different? Even though they had only met wouldn't the world be...less?

She stood up and walked over to her office door and locked it. The click of the lock echoing in the silence of the moment.

She opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

**_Dear Felicity,_ **

**_I’m sorry that I didn't tell you that I had a mission on Saturday. It just wasn't something I wanted to talk about. Forgive me._ **

**_If you're reading this letter than I didn’t make it back. I can only hope that Tommy and the rest of my squadron did._ **

**_This letter is not meant to make you sad or unhappy, it is written in the hopes that it can bring you comfort. I wanted you to know that I would have really enjoyed our next dance._ **

**_I write these words, just a few hours after having left you, with the lingering feeling of joy that you gave me tonight. You didn't have to smile at me or talk to me or dance with me, but you did. You spent one evening with a stranger who will never think of you as one, ever. I look at you as a friend. A beautiful friend amongst the turmoil and darkness of our current lives and I hope that's okay._ **

**_I thank you for your kindness. Our few hours together meant the world to me._ **

**_I also wanted to thank you for your service to your country. I can only admire your sense of duty to your country and its ideals. It is important. It is necessary._ **

**_Be safe my friend. Be safe and may you have a truly remarkable life, Felicity Smoak._ **

**_Oliver_ **

Felicity didn’t know how long she stood by the door holding the letter. She read his words over and over till she couldn’t see them through her tear dampened glasses. He was a gentle soul...he IS a gentle soul, Felicity reminded herself. She would see him again to tell him that.

There was a soft knock on the door before Laurel softly asked her if she could come in. Felicity unlocked the door and they both looked at each other then hugged. They offered each other sympathy and comfort in a world that was scary and heartbreaking.

~~~~  
48 hours earlier, Saturday, twilight.

 

Oliver woke to the acidic scent of smoke, blood and a searing pain all along his left side. Crunched up metal and sparking chunks of what was left of the cockpit of the Green Archer came into focus. He turned his head as he heard the low moan of his co-pilot, Jim.

“Jim,” Oliver croaked out as he tried to move and help him. His seatbelt stopped him and as he tried to unclip it he found he couldn't lift his left arm. The violence of the landing must have dislocated his left arm.

God, the landing. He needed to get his crew out of the plane. The Germans would have seen the plane go down and would be swarming them at any moment.

“Jim! BB, anyone hear me? We need to evacuate, now!”

Oliver struggled out of his chair and stumbled over to check on Jim.

“There’s something wrong with my foot. I think I broke my toes, Oliver. You need to leave me. Get out of here,”

“Don't even go there. We're all getting out of here. Come on, help me get you up. Jim! Help me get you up!” Oliver yelled at his co-pilot and friend as he used his one good arm to help Jim stand up. No one was going to be left behind. No one.

As the two of them struggled around the mangled cockpit they could finally see the devastation of the crash site. The Archer was in pieces, but she had kept her fuselage together enough to protect the crew. Her wings and tail were clipped and shredded and on fire in a field of debris a mile long.

“Can anyone hear me?” yelled Oliver as he saw bodies moving slowly.

“Cap, we're here,”

“Yeah, we're alive,”

“We need to get out. I don't know if the Archer will explode and the Germans will be here any minute. Come on boys, move!”

As they piled out of the debris and smoke, voices surrounded them.

“Americans! Quickly, you just come with us! Quickly!”

Oliver looked at the small group of men and women who surrounded them. Who were they and what was going on?

“You must do as we say, quickly. The Germans are coming!” said a large, bulky man in farm overalls as he and the others took any crew member they could find and began to drag them away from the plane.

Oliver didn't know who they were. The most important thing though was that they were not speaking German. He only heard English and Dutch being spoken.

“Wait! Please,” yelled Oliver. “I need to see who survived,” Oliver stood holding onto Jim, listing back and forth as they clung together.

Oliver looked over all the uniformed figures that stood or lay on the ground and counted 7. My god, they had all survived the crash. All 9 of them. They were all dealing with different levels of trauma and injuries, but they were all looking at Oliver and smiling through it all.

“Enough, come with us, now!”

All 9 crew members were rushed away in different directions. Some in groups and some individually. Approaching vehicles could be heard as the local farmers and their family members desperately rushed the Americans to safety from German soldiers.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I took some liberties concerning events and their timing. Some of them would not have been known about till later in the war.

~~~~

"Hurry," urgently whispered the tall, gruff farmer who was leading Oliver and Jim through the pitch dark of night and away from the flames of the broken Archer and the German troops who were flooding into the village.

Oliver could only just make out the back of the farmer's blond head as they ran through farm fields and then along a winding river bank. The heat and golden glow of the burning aircraft debris became fainter and fainter as they fled.

Oliver struggled to hold Jim up as they ran together. Each abrupt and rushed step jarring and painful to the injuries of both men.

"Here!" said the man as he opened the door to a small barn and led them in before baring it with a long piece of wood. Oliver and Jim watched as he ran over and shooed a cow to the side of the stall it was in then started to push the hay laying on the ground around until a small trapdoor on the floor was exposed.

The man lifted the trapdoor and pointed into its darkness. Oliver didn't think, he just reacted and helped Jim down the ladder and into the hole with him.

"Stay," the man directed as the trap door was slammed shut and the scratching sounds of the man once again camouflaging the door and pulling the cow back over it could be heard. Through small slits of the trapdoor thin streams of moonlight dimly lit the four walls of the dug out hole in the ground.

"Oliver," Jim whispered as Oliver set him down and they both sat on the dirt floor in near total darkness. The damp smell of earth encompassed them as the adrenaline that had gotten them through the escape was quickly wearing off.

"Yeah," Oliver replied as he tried to move his left arm into a position that was less painful.

"Thank you," Jim said, his voice low and shaky with emotion.

Oliver swallowed back his own emotions and replied, "You would have done the same for me, Jim. You would have done the same,"

As his exhaustion, the pain though out his body, the darkness and the weight of their predicament settled heavily on Oliver, his thoughts were a jumble of fear, hope, and devastation. Did his mayday go through? Did his commander know they were alive? Did Tommy make it back to base? His mom, did she know about his crash? Did Felicity?

He couldn't bear the thought of those who cared for him thinking he was dead. That they were hurting.

He tried to focus on what was in front of him. What he could do to get home. He wanted to go home.

~~~~~

Felicity quickly learned that life didn't stop for anything. Even when most of her waking hours were filled with concern and worry for Oliver, she still had responsibilities. She still had to get dressed, eat and go to work and not think of the worse possible scenarios. She had to stay positive.

When the world was at war and people relied on you, personal heartache and worries had no place in it except to fill every crevice and private corner of ones heart till it struggled to beat.

Her supervisor didn't know her connection to Oliver and that he was MIA and that his friend Tommy was still recovering from an emergency landing, even though he would have offered words of care and encouragement if he did, as he called her, Laurel and the rest of their team in for an important meeting.

As Felicity sat down in front of his desk and glanced over at the chalkboard that was always full of the latest intelligence information, her heart accelerated at the words underlined in thick chalk.

RAMPS. WHAT ARE THEY FOR?

"We've been asked to review all new photographs coming in from the area of Usedom, northern peninsula of Germany. They are now our priority,"

Felicity knew that over the past month her department had identified the existence of long, narrow structures being built in several Northern Germany locations. Those structures had then been recently confirmed by British ground intelligence to be launching ramps that were all pointing towards Great Britain. In total, 96 ramps had been built within weeks.

"This is related to the ramps we had identified?" Felicity asked as she sat up straighter in her chair as the magnitude of their ramp discovery was revealed.

"Yes, once the structures were confirmed as launch ramps, the Strategic Aviation department reviewed and concluded that they may not be for missiles. The remote locations of the ramp facilities and their being nowhere near railroad lines would make the transport of mass missiles difficult. What they need from us is to look for any anomalies in the incoming photos with this information in mind."

"If not missiles, what could they be built to launch?" Laurel asked out loud what everyone else was thinking.

"That's our mission to find out. So, abnormal and unusual are what we're looking for," their supervisor stressed as he begun to assign tasks and responsibilities for the review.

~~~~~~

Oliver couldn't tell how long they stayed in the hole, but they had both slept badly off and on waking to every sound or movement from above. Just like they were awake right now as someone was about to open the trapdoor.

Oliver and Jim didn't have any weapons on them, but had pulled the belts from the waist of their pants and wrapped them several times around their hands with the metal buckle cradled within their palms ready to be used as one.

The trapdoor opened and they both squinted up at the light of the lantern that was held above by the head of the man who had rescued them. The man made his way down the ladder and turned to stand before them.

Oliver finally got a good look at the farmer he owed his life to.

He was ordinary looking.

He had light hair with wrinkles on his face that spoke of hard work and determination, but he wasn't an...ordinary man. He was a man who dared to run towards a downed airplane and commit treason by helping an enemy of Germany.

"My name is Isaac and you are safe, for now. I am with the Dutch Resistance,"

Oliver never heard sweeter words than that. He lessened his grip on his belt buckle as he breathed a little easier with the news and looked at Jim. They both knew of the reputation of the Dutch Resistance and their work with rescuing and hiding Jewish families and especially Jewish children from sure death in the Nazi death camps.

"My men?"

"Separated and hidden all along the village,"

"Thank you," Oliver said as he dropped his belt on the ground then held his one good hand out. The man named Isaac grasped it and shook as he nodded back.

"Don't thank me yet. We are surrounded by the German garrison who is scouring your crash site. What injuries do you have?" he asked as Jim weakly sat back down as the pain in his foot had become too unbearable to stand upon.

Oliver and Jim told him about Jim's broken toes and Isaac was able to pull Oliver's dislocated shoulder back into place as Oliver bit down on the leather of his belt. Who would have thought his military issued belt would be so useful. The best they could do for Jim was wrap his foot securely and tightly with rags and put his boot back on over them to help keep the broken bones from being jarred too much.

Another man, much younger than Isaac named Hans, but no less intense and serious brought them cheese, water and a change of clothing as Isaac told them of the number of German's in the area and how some of Oliver's men had already been moved more than once as the garrison made their way through the countryside.

With the change of clothing, Oliver and Jim now looked like the locals and their uniforms were to be burned. The hole they were all in was surprisingly large. Obviously used for hiding whatever or whomever the Dutch Resistance was moving around under the German occupied forces' noses.

"You must remain hidden for now. We are working on details to transport you out of the country. It may take some time and will be dangerous."

"We are grateful and we understand the risk you and your families have put yourselves in to help us. We will do everything you ask,"

"This is good," Isaac said as he signaled Hans that it was time to leave.

Oliver and Jim remained in the hidden location in the barn for two more days before they had another visit.

The cow was making a ruckus of noise and German voices were coming closer and louder above their hiding place as German soldiers walked through the barn in a slow search.

Oliver and Jim could only sit quietly and hope the soldiers didn't notice anything out of the ordinary in Betsy's stall. Yes, they named the cow. Betsy was what Oliver and Jim decided to call her as they were forced to get used to the foul odors she regularly deposited on the floor above them.


	7. Chapter 7

The scent of cigarette smoke wafted down into their hiding spot and the proximity of the enemy struck Oliver and Jim even harder. They were so close. The soldiers could not have picked a worse spot to take a smoke break then there.

Oliver closed his eyes as he slowly let out the breath he’d been holding since Betsy first signaled to them that something was wrong. The grip on his makeshift weapon, the hard metal of his belt buckle, tightened as the conversation above him seem to go on forever.

The pulse of his heartbeat got louder and louder in his own ears as the fear of being caught hung over him. If they were found would they take them as prisoners of war? Would they kill them?

Jim nudged him and Oliver looked into his eyes and saw only steely determination. They’d make it out of this just like they made it out of an impossible crash landing. 

Then the voices begun to move off and after a few minutes the barn returned to it’s stoic, peaceful quiet, but Oliver and Jim still didn’t move. The adrenaline and shock of the surprise search still lingered in their veins.

As night fell and the hole got dark again, Isaac returned. 

“That search today was too close. We need to move you tonight,”

“To where?” Oliver asked, as he helped Jim stand and then leaned under his arm to grab unto his body to help him walk. 

“We are lucky the moon is not full. We use the river. Come,”

The three men quietly and slowly, Jim’s body tight and stressed as he leaned against Oliver, walked towards the riverbank of one of the many water arteries that rambled through miles and miles of the Netherlands. 

Hidden in the tall weeds was a boat with Hans and three of Oliver’s flight crew waiting in it. 

“I leave you here. Hans will take you to the next rally point. We have already sent four others to Rotterdam. You meet your men there,”

Oliver found Isaac’s arm and squeezed. Isaac nodded back and said, “Go!” 

Hans stood up and with the help of the rest of the crew, Oliver and Jim boarded the crowded boat. Low murmurs of relief and happiness to see friends was quickly whispered before Hans put his boat oars in the water and they set off.

With the rhythmic sound of the oars gliding through the water and the faint silhouette of Isaac disappearing in the distance, Oliver looked forward into the darkness of what lie ahead.

~~~~~~

Felicity woke with a start. The blackness of the cloudy night made the faint glow of the neighborhood street lamp cast a dirty gray across the ceiling of her bedroom. She could not remember what she had been dreaming about, but goosebumps lingered on her skin and she felt...unsettled.

She turned over and pulled her blanket over her head. In the cocoon of her warm familiar bedsheets she took deep breaths and tried to remember a happy moment. A quiet smile and the scent of chocolate came to mind. Oliver. 

With the pleasant memory came the tide of gnawing worry that always hovered. Thinking of him was bittersweet. 

~~~~~

Rotterdam. Oliver knew that it was a major seaport in southern Holland. The Resistance was going to try and smuggle them out via the large city. It was smart and undoubtedly dangerous. Hell, everything about being behind enemy lines was dangerous. 

“Quiet,” Hans urgently whispered, lifting the palm of his hand to still any movement, as he guided the boat towards a shadowed area of the shore. They all sat in the boat watching him and listening for any signs of danger. 

Activity from the opposite bank, about a half mile downriver, caught everyone’s attention. German troops.

~~~~~

Felicity absentmindedly stirred the hot cup of tea she had just brewed in the bustling canteen at work. Her sleepless night making her a little distracted that morning. The unease from her dreams remained.

“Morning,” Laurel said as she poured some steaming hot water into her cup and then added some cream.

“Morning,” 

“You look tired. More dreams?”

“More dreams. I still can’t remember them, but I feel them…,”

“I talked with Tommy last night. I’m sorry Felicity, there still isn’t any word about Oliver.”

It had been almost two weeks since Tommy had told them about Oliver’s crash and it felt like forever for Felicity. And for Laurel as well, Felicity thought. She knew Laurel dreaded Tommy’s next mission. She wanted Tommy to heal, but with that came the resumption of his responsibilities. 

“No news could be a good thing, right?” Felicity asked attempting to remain strong.

“Yes,”

~~~~~~~

Flashlight beams flickered as men on bicycles arrived and mingled with the German soldiers. Tense voices both sharp and murmured traveled over the calm river waters for Oliver and his crew to hear.

What was going on? Oliver hated not being able to act. Helplessness did not suit him and from the nervous energy of the rest of his men, it did not sit well with them either. 

For some reason the group of soldiers moved inland and followed the beams of the now retreating flashlights.

Hans eased the boat forward; staying close to the opposite river bank and rowed them past the German check point. 

After they safely got out of earshot of the soldiers Oliver asked, “What happened back there?”

“Dutch police. They are Resistance, too. Help to distract Germans when needed,” Hans explained, a smirk growing bigger on his lips as the pride in his country men showed. 

Oliver and his men could only smile back at him as the feeling of amazement overtook the dread that had eclipsed them moments earlier. Incredible.

~~~~~~

Oliver was so exhausted. His eyes heavy and stinging from the lack of sleep and proper nourishment. He wasn’t angry about it. In fact, feeling anything at this point was still a god send. He and his men were alive. They were alive and there were incredibly brave people in this upside down and crazy world and he was so grateful.

No one on the boat had slept as they all took turns with Hans rowing them west on the river all night. As far as Oliver could tell it was about two hours before sunrise.

“Here,” Hans said after hours of complete silence. An old decrepit home rested by the riverbank and a delivery truck sat alone along the back wall hidden from the main road.

“He take you from here. To Rotterdam,” Hans said as a man, nondescript with a cap low over his head with his face hidden in the shadows, emerged from the bushes by the truck and signaled them with a white handkerchief. 

They all piled off the boat, each man taking one last look at Hans as he pushed the boat off shore. That smirk of his making a final appearance as he drifted away.

“Quickly, come. Hide in the back,” The man from the bushes said, as he directed them to climb into the back of the delivery truck. Bags and bags of potatoes were stacked to the ceiling of the truck bed as they all made their way to the small, dark area towards the front of the truck left for them to sit down. They all sat down, uncomfortably with their legs up against their chests, as the man in the cap pushed stacks of bags to conceal them in.


	8. Chapter 8

Oliver could not tell how long they traveled in the cramped space in the back of the delivery truck. After the first hour or so of everyone talking over their personal experiences, the thankfulness of being found by the resistance and their theories of what was to happen next, the hours melted together. The bumpy jostling of the truck finally lulled them all into a disjointed sleep. 

The noises of a large city, vehicles and bustling humanity, could be heard as the truck rambled on till it slowed, backed up and then stopped. 

Oliver woke everyone, who wasn’t already aware that they had stopped, as the driver of the truck poked his head around the potato bags and said, “Come, we are here,”

Oliver stood up and looked passed the driver to the entrance of a loading dock of a building.

They all followed the man through a small kitchen and up a narrow flight of stairs. As Oliver rounded the corner, to go up the stairs, he could see a larger room that looked to be a bar area. The stale smell of beer and smoke lingered and dark wood walls flanked a bunch of tables.

As they reached the top of the stairs a drop down ladder hung from a ceiling entrance. Once they climbed the ladder they stepped into the building’s attic. It ran the length of the building with windows, covered with heavy curtains, on each end.

Mattresses were laid out around the room and two tables, with cups and plates, were lined along the far wall. Leaning against one of those tables was a man and a woman. They were both dressed in pants, jackets and boots with rifles resting casually against their hips, but what interested Oliver and his crew the most were the three men who stood next to them. 

BB, and two others of their crew. Alive, standing and walking over to greet them.

“Good to see you, Captain,” BB said as he held out his hand in greeting, a hand that Oliver completely ignored as he hugged him instead. The sound of laughter and homecoming filled the room.

“BB, it’s so good to see all of you,”

“Captain Queen?” said the woman as she stood up and walked towards Oliver. She swung her rifle strap around her shoulders, leaving her hands free, as she looked him up and down.

“I am,” 

“Marie DeVries and this is Daniel, my second in command. We lead the resistance in this region. Welcome to Rotterdam,”

“We are all grateful to meet you,” 

“We do what we can…. we’ve contacted the Brits and are working on getting you and your crew out of here. The Germans are very active in the city, so it may take some time to get the plan together. For now, this is my uncle’s bar. We keep you here,”

~~~~~~

Felicity moved the black and white image she was reviewing, slightly to the left, under her stereoscope. The amplified three dimensional picture gave up none of its secrets. It had been several long days of meticulous analysis of new photographs taken over the hot spots of interests containing the ramps, with nothing new found.

Odd or unusual was the battle cry her department was given. What were the Germans up to?

She removed the photograph and replaced it with the next one. She shrugged and rolled her shoulders to workout the kinks and strain of bending over her work for hours. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes to rest them for a few minutes. The familiar subdued office sounds around her, soothing. She could hear the shuffle of photographs and papers under her co-worker’s machines then the quiet that followed as their examination of the images began.

“Okay, enough rest Felicity,” she mumbled to herself as she moved back towards the stereograph and looked down through the glass. She reoriented herself to what she was looking at; slowly moving the image so she could look over each ramp and its surrounding areas. 

She was just about to move the image an inch over when she saw it. Incredibly small, almost unnoticeable...two faint intersecting lines...like a cross. 

~~~~~~

Every day, Marie came to update Oliver and the crew on the goings on of the city and German troop movements. She didn’t have to, but Oliver appreciated the courtesy. Marie had lost family and her fiance to the German invasion and from those losses her need to fight back bloomed. She was a tough woman and she ran her underground network like a tight military unit. 

There was a large German garrison that was located a mile away from the bar and on most nights the soldiers and officers enjoyed drink and musical entertainment. Alcohol helped “loosen lips” and Marie and her network took full advantage of that. 

Oliver and his crew played cards and read and reread the few books and bibles that were supplied as they bid their time in enemy territory. The evenings, however, were the hardest for them to relax. Muted music and voices of their enemies right below them filled them with nervous energy. 

…..On the fourth day, Marie did not come….. 

Daniel did, late in the night, and covered in blood.

~~~~~

“What are you?” Felicity whispered as she moved the photograph up and down and left to right. The crucifix shape was definitely something unusual. She walked the photograph over to Laurel and asked her to take a look.

“I agree, It’s definitely man made Felicity,” Laurel said, as she looked through her stereoscope moving the photo around with the eraser tip of her pencil.

“It doesn’t have a tail, so I’m not sure if it’s an aircraft,”

“There seems to be a slight difference in coloring under the X. That may be a shadow,” 

“May I,” Felicity asked as she moved to look through Laurel’s magnifier. 

“I see what you’re saying, Laurel. The object is resting on the ramp. Let’s go report this,”


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hello Everyone, looks like we are near the end. Next week's chapter will 'hopefully' give Olicity their HEA. Thank you all for the comments and words of encouragement. They are a huge part of what makes me want to share my stories.

#####

"Daniel? Are you okay?" Oliver asked, as he rushed towards the man who stumbled into the attic; whose face was covered in blood splatter and camouflage grease.

"We must go, now! We've been compromised,"

####

"Marie," Oliver said in surprise when he saw her standing guard at the entrance of the bar's loading dock as several of her men pushed the kitchen's stove to one side exposing a tunnel entrance.

She turned to look at Oliver, her face a mask of anger and concentration, then shook her head in response. She looked back out the door of the kitchen with her rifle at the ready. Blood saturating her pants from a wound on her leg.

Whatever happened tonight, it was bad Oliver thought.

"Collaborators. It hurts when your own country men become traitors," Daniel whispered as he came up from behind and lined up the crew by the mouth of a tunnel.

"This tunnel will take us across the street to another building. We must go,"

####

Daniel led Oliver, his crew and two other resistance fighters through the tunnel that was connected to the city's sewage system. They surfaced behind a fake wall in an old deserted building and waited while Daniel and his men secured the perimeter and their awaiting vehicle.

In the thick of the night they were once again loaded into the back of a truck, with Daniel sitting guard, as it started and eased into the alley. As they made it a block away, gunshots could be heard from the direction of the bar.

Oliver could see Daniel's entire body tense as he quickly raised his rifle in reaction to the danger. Return fire could be heard as the truck picked up speed and they were forced to leave Marie, friends and fellow fighters behind.

####

The discovery of the mysterious crucifix shaped object had been sent up the chain of command and within days, Felicity and her department were briefed on what they helped find.

British ground intelligence had been deployed to the area Felicity had pinpointed, Peenemunde, a German research site where they identified what would later become known as the V-1 unmanned flying bombs.

The "Mother" and "Genesis" of modern day long range cruise missiles.

The destruction of the V-1 facilities and infrastructure was prioritized and command ordered the commencement of a massive strategic bombing mission called "Operation Crossbow."

Allied forces would cripple the V-1 project, but not a year later the Germans resurrected the project and terrorized and killed over 40,000 Brits and made over two million homeless. Over 9500 flying bombs were unleashed upon Great Britain before the last V-1 site was overrun.

####

"It is taking too long," Daniel whispered with concern from where he sat looking out the back of the truck. They had driven north of the city, towards a small fishing village, where they now sat waiting for one of Daniel's men to make contact with the captain of a vessel that would smuggle the crew out to sea. Plans were in disarray and they could only hope Marie's network could adapt.

When the resistance had been compromised the original plans to get Oliver and his crew out of Rotterdam had been forced up by two days. The Germans would assume the Americans would be taken south towards Belgium and then on towards Spain and so this is how Oliver found himself in the North.

A distinctive whistle came out of the night and Daniel whistled back.

"Let's go,"

####

As the crew boarded the fishing vessel, Daniel pulled Oliver to the side and explained, "The captain of this vessel is a hero, Oliver. Once his boat hits British waters you are all spies. The plan was to rendezvous with a British Naval ship on Thursday, not tonight. They will not be expecting you. Do you understand?"

"Yes...I understand what you're saying. Daniel we can never repay you, Marie, all of you,"

"Survive. That is payment enough,"

####

Once the boat made its way towards open waters a wave of fog settled over them. No moonlight could be seen and the captain was forced to use his compass and detailed water maps.

Oliver could not stay below deck any longer. His dog tags burned where they lay nestled against his chest. He had briefed his men on the British not knowing about their arrival. They could only hope whoever they encountered would not shoot them on sight. American soldiers were instructed to keep their dog tags on their persons at all times. If they were caught by the enemy they would be considered prisoners of war and not spies if they had their dog tags and papers. The thing was, now Oliver was coming from enemy borders. Would the Allies talk first instead of fire upon a foreign ship entering their waters?

"Captain, may I sit with you?" Oliver asked the old man at the helm of the boat.

"For a while, then you must go down. Too dangerous up top," the man said after a moment's hesitation.

Oliver sat down on the worn stool that rested to the right of the captain's chair. The old man stared at him before looking back out towards the dense fog.

"My son used to sit in that stool,"

Oliver could hear the emotion in the man's voice and didn't know if he was meant to respond...

"He was all I had left after my wife died. The ravages of war is hard on all of us. I will try to get you home to your family. To your mother. Your father,"

Oliver had to look away as he tried to blink the tears from his eyes. Images of his mother, his family...ruby red lips and soft blonde curls...cascaded through his mind and he finally broke.

In the privacy of a stranger's boat Oliver fell apart. All the stress of keeping his hopes up in front of his crew and for himself...it overwhelmed him. They were so close to getting home. He was almost too scared to hope.

####

Captain Tommy Merlyn and his crew were given a replacement plane and a new mission. "Operation Crossbow" was called early that morning and after the mission briefing everyone was ready to do some damage. He placed a small black and white photograph of Laurel, beautiful in her military uniform, on his dash and smiled as his crew went through their checklists and he started the engines of his flying fortress.

####

"I have decided to travel towards the coordinates of my last handoff. Perhaps the Naval ship that patrols there recognize my boat," explained the captain as he turned his boat northwest.

"I'll bring my crew up, maybe if they see we have no weapons,"

"We can try,"

####

Several hours later the fog had lifted and Oliver and crew watched the horizon for both enemy and allied vessels. The captain had hoisted both white and mariner distress flags up the mast of his vessel. If they did come across any ships they would consider the fishing vessel was in distress.

"Look!"

Oliver could see a boat coming from the British side of the channel. As it drew closer the old captain turned off his engines and walked out to stand with Oliver and his crew.

####

A/N: Operation Crossbow was the actual name of the bombing campaign against the V-1. If you wish to know more about the incredible woman I based Felicity's character on, please look up Constance Babington Smith.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters to write and it turned into a monster of over 3000 words. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. xoxo

~~~~~

“Hands in the air!” Came the brusque voice over a loudspeaker of the British Flower-class minesweeper as she came to a stop off the starboard side of the Dutch fishing vessel. As the entire crew put their hands up, the minesweeper pulled alongside and British soldiers with their rifles trained on all of them, boarded Oliver’s boat.

~~~~~

“Felicity, Laurel, everyone. We’re all going to have a celebratory drink down at the dance hall. I think we all deserve one after the tremendous work and contributions the whole department has made the last few weeks. No, it’s an order,” said their supervisor with a huge smile, as some of them started to decline the invitation. It had been a long and taxing week for many and going straight home to rest had its appeal.

~~~~~~

Oliver sat in a holding cell on the British frigate, HMS Byrony, for what felt like hours. His crew and the old captain were taken into custody and interrogated. Each man was taken separately by the executive officers of the vessel and asked specific questions. After Oliver gave his name, rank and serial number he presented his dog tags.

After going over the details of the emergency landing and subsequent rescue by the Dutch underground the interrogator asked him for information that could actually be confirmed. Oliver tried to think of something unique and all he could come up with was...the name of his squadron commander, the name of his plane, “The Green Archer” and the fact that it had been their 25th and last mission.

His interrogator re-entered the room and came to stand by the bars of the cell.

“Welcome home, Captain Queen. I was able to corroborate the information you gave us with Central Command via radio, but I can’t release you on the boat. For the safety of the men under my command, you must remain in custody and we will hand you over to the military police when we reach port. I hope you understand,”

“I understand completely, Sir. We are all just thankful to be in your hands. My men? The captain of the fishing vessel?”

“Your crew is being informed as we speak. The Dutch captain and his vessel will also be taken into port.”

~~~~~~~

Oliver and his crew were flown back to their base in Bassingbourn and upon arrival had been debriefed by their commander. All details were recorded and a warm welcome was given. The incredible fact that all of Oliver’s crew had survived not just the crash, but the journey home was a feat rarely heard. Col. Westcore promised all of them that their families would receive telegrams of their rescue and return to base. And as was required by the United States military, upon completion of their required 25 missions and being MIA, Oliver and his men would be sent back to America. They were all going home.

Oliver had been told that the old Dutch captain had been given back his boat and had asked to be allowed to return to Holland. Oliver said a prayer for the old hero and his safe return, as well as one for every person who helped them on their perilous journey.

Once they were all released from medical, had eaten and showered, they returned to their empty squadron barracks. The quiet and stillness of the building made Oliver uneasy, he didn’t want to be alone.

He made his way out to the airfield and there he saw the rest of his crew, including Jim leaning on brand new crutches, waiting for the fortresses and their crews to return from the mission “Operation Crossbow” that had sent them all out that morning. Looked like the rest of his crew were dealing with the same...feelings.

~~~~

Tommy didn’t notice Oliver at first, but as he and his crew walked closer to the barracks he stopped in his tracks.

“Oh my god, Oliver!” Tommy yelled, dropping his pilot helmet on the ground, as he ran and engulfed Oliver in a huge bear hug. They laughed and held on to each other as all the men from both their crews greeted each other.

“It’s good to see you old man,”

“I feel like one right now. I think I could sleep for days,”

“Gosh, it’s so good to see you. Let me look at you. Are you hurt? You’re going to have to tell me everything and...I know someone else who’s going to be just as thankful to see you as I am,”

“Felicity?” Oliver asked, as his spirits soared even higher than it already was with the joy of being back at base with his friends. He wouldn’t lie, he hoped he would be able to see her before he left for home. To see her one last time.

“I gave her your letter. I hope that was the right thing to do? She’s been worried, Oliver. We all have,”

“I know. I’m sorry,”

“Nothing to be sorry for. God, it’s good to see you,”

“You too, Tommy. You too,”

~~~~~~

Felicity was getting ready to leave and meet the others in the front of the building, to go for that celebratory drink, when she heard her office door open.

“I’m coming,” she yelled, as she leaned down to turn her desk lamp off.

“Hello, Felicity,”

She turned toward the deep, calm voice she didn’t recognize and saw Oliver Queen, looking thinner and exhausted, but beautiful in his uniform. Neither of them moved. Felicity didn’t know if she could trust what she was seeing. Could he really be right there, in front of her?

Goodness he was...beautiful. She couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes. He was alive and this war hadn’t taken another good person from the world. She knew they didn’t know each other that well, but he would just have to deal with what... she needed. She walked right up to him and hugged him. She hugged him for herself. She hugged him for his family.

“Oliver,” she whispered as she tightened her hold on him and felt his arms, after a seconds hesitation, encircle her. He breathed deeply and rested his weary head in the crook of her neck.

“Are you okay?” she asked against his ear as her hands rested on his back.

He nodded as his arms tightened around her and the rest of the world, disappeared.

Felicity held on as long as he needed her too and just like with their first dance; his touch felt like, home.

He seemed to gather himself together and slowly stepped out of her arms. His cheeks were a light pink and he shyly ducked his head before he looked back at her and smiled.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” replied Felicity with a smile she couldn’t have stopped for the life of her. He truly was beautiful. There was a vulnerability in him that hadn’t there before he went MIA and she just wanted to help ease it.

“Tommy and I caught Laurel out front. Um, are you going to the dance hall?”

“Only if you are,”

His smile dimmed a little and he shook his head.

“No, I don’t feel...would you walk with me?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Felicity gathered up her purse and they walked out into the mild summer night.

~~~~~~

They walked in silence for some time. Oliver seemed somewhere else, preoccupied, tense and Felicity could understand that. She had seen soldiers and friends come back from the front lines of battle and never be...quite the same again.

“Hey, would you like to sit for a while?” she asked softly as she pointed to a park bench that overlooked a pond where the moon’s rays were reflected over its serene waters.

~~~~~

Oliver was overwhelmed with so many emotions. He knew he wasn’t the best company right now, but he selfishly wanted to see Felicity before he left. To make sure she knew he was okay. He felt so awful for her having had received his letter. He didn’t blame Tommy. He just felt bad that she had been forced to live through the weeks he was missing. His mind was constantly flashing back to the events of the last few weeks. He wondered if the old captain had made it home. He wondered if Marie and Daniel were alive. He wondered about so many things…..

He glanced over at Felicity and his chaotic thoughts...stopped. She was breathtaking and it wasn’t just because she was so pretty, but because she cared and she had a big heart. She had held him and for those few moments, everything was okay again. She was quietly sitting with him and just...being.

“I’m sorry,”

“About what?” she asked as she turned her body to face him.

“For making you worry. For putting you through all this..my letter...”

“Was beautiful...and it meant a lot to me, Oliver. That you would think of me enough to write a letter.. I think of you as a...friend too and I’m so happy to see you right now,”

“You made that night very special for me, Felicity,” They both smiled at each other before Oliver glanced back over the pond and into the darkness of the night.

“My entire crew made it home. We were helped by the Dutch Resistance. They were amazing, Felicity. They risked everything. Their lives, the safety of their families...to make sure my crew and I got home,”

“Oh, Oliver. Everyone made it? That’s wonderful...the Dutch Resistance, wow,” In her excitement she reached out and touched his hand.

He looked down at her touch and told hold of hand and gently squeezed.

“Felicity, I’m going home. To America,”

“Home?”

“Tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow?”

“I always seem to be saying goodbye to you in one way or another. And you always seem to make my last night’s….incredible,”

“You’re going home....Oliver, that’s wonderful. Your Mom is going to be so happy,” Felicity replied as she dealt with the news of his leaving. The briefest seconds of disappointment and sadness of what could have been; was completely vanquished by her genuine happiness for him. He was going home to his family. Alive and beautiful. Yes, happiness is what she held onto.

“Can I write you?”

“I would really like that. Yes,” Felicity said as she tried to memorize every detail she could of him and their last moments together.

~~~~~~~~~

June, 1943

 **Dear Felicity** ,

…..I am home. My mother’s arms around me have never felt as good as they did today. My arrival gave her an unbelievable surprise. I had beaten the official telegraph home, that would have told tell her I was alive and safe. She hasn’t stopped feeding me since I walked through the door. I know you can relate to that show of love.

I am both exhausted and wide awake. Even with the comforting scents of chocolate and my mother’s home I can’t seem to settle. I find the noises of the city make me long for the beauty of your country’s green pastures……

 **Regards** ,  
Oliver

~~~~~~~

September 1943

 **Dear Oliver** ,

….Fresh made cakes with one’s favorite tea is almost as good as a hug, almost as good. A parent’s hug is divine isn’t it? Love and hope wrapped up all in one. Thank you so much for letting me know you arrived home safely. I had worried about you.

Have you been able to rest? It took me awhile to get used to the engines of your fortresses when I moved to work in Bassingbourn. Even now, the rumble of them makes me take pause and reflect on the fact that men are going into battle.

Have you received your new orders?....

 **Best Regards** ,  
Felicity

~~~~~~~

December 1943

**Dear Felicity,**

Merry Christmas, Felicity. And probably by the time this letter reaches you, Happy New Year. I must say that corresponding by mail isn’t as nice as seeing you in person. Your letter finally reached me at my new post at George Army Field, Illinois. I was fortunate to be able to go back to where I learned to fly and be able to teach the next wave of aviators. Command thought I could impart not just quality airmanship, but a knowledge of war that instructors who had not be deployed into the theaters of war, could not.

I get a lot of questions, Felicity. The students want to know what it was like behind enemy lines.

It is difficult to talk about it. They don’t know that of course when they ask. I could never express my feelings...the mixture of guilt and gratefulness for those who put themselves in harm’s way for me, for those who died so I could go home...how does one tell someone about that? I wake up some days asking myself if I was worthy of those sacrifices and then I try to be.

I’m sorry to burden you with these thoughts. I just feel...that I can. In the privacy of my letters. With my friend. I feel that I can….

 **Your friend** ,  
Oliver

~~~~~

March 1944

 **Dearest Oliver** ,

….My friend, you can tell me anything. The fact that you feel something. The fact that you are grateful and aspire to be worthy of their sacrifices makes you…worthy. You are worthy, Oliver.

Do you feel you can handle my confessions? Our letters are our safe place, right? We don’t have to be so strong within our words and pages of paper do we?

Sometimes, I can’t be strong.

Most days I don’t feel the impact my job carries. One tries to concentrate on what’s in front of them, not what is out “there.” I am not on the front lines to feel things so bluntly, but there are days when it hits home. I can’t tell you specifics, but we are working on something that is tremendous. And when I think of all the lives that will be involved, well, it overwhelms me. So much blood and human life. When will this war end, Oliver? I just pray that this can lead to the end…….

 **Love,**  
Felicity

~~~~

June 1944

 **My Dear Felicity** ,

I have heard the news. D-Day. I have never seen a more coordinated effort of force in my entire life. Could this lead to the end of the war for Europe you ask? We can only hope.

You must have been extremely busy with the analysis of aerial details that went into the invasion plans. I know the horrors of what we are seeing on the beaches of the Normandy coast, the incredible loss of life, will haunt us all for a long time, but please know that you did everything you could to ensure our soldiers and command had the best information available. In the end that is all we can hope for in our part in the war. That we do our jobs to the best we can.

I wish I was there to be of more comfort to you……

 **Love,**  
Oliver

~~~~

September 1944

**My Dearest Oliver,**

….Your letters and words are always a comfort to me. Don’t get me wrong, a hug or a dance would be even nicer, but I love your letters. Is it okay to tell you that? When I get one of your letters I can hardly wait to walk back into my apartment and open it. To “hear” your voice and your thoughts through your words.

Thank you for reminding me that what we do, no matter the job, is of the greatest importance. That the spoke in the wheel allows it to turn. Our forces have entered Germany. It is a momentous feat. We are forcing them back. Thank god.

I read of the latest advances of the Americans in the Pacific. You had mentioned that several of your graduating pilots were heading there. Having one battle front to defend on our end is incredibly hard. I don’t know how you Americans can deal with two theaters of war…..be well, Oliver…..

 **Love,**  
Felicity

~~~~~

November 1944

**My Dearest Felicity,**

You made me smile. I also feel the rush of excitement when I see your familiar stationary and handwriting. I don’t think anyone writes my name with such a flourish. I heard the latest song from Duke Ellington today and thought of you. Dancing with you is a memory I hold very dear.

Yes, the war in the Pacific has been hard fought and dirty. We have been able to take back several islands like Guam and Saipan from the Japanese Navy, but at the expense of many lives. The Japanese have fierce souls. We have received news of what the Japanese call “Kamikaze” pilots. They sacrifice themselves by committing suicide. Images of kamikaze pilots deliberately flying their planes into American warships has stunned us all. They are an enemy we can never underestimate.

Be well too Felicity…..

 **Love** ,  
Oliver

~~~~~~

February 1945

 **Dearest Oliver** ,

….My heart is so heavy. By now news of what both Allied and Soviet troops have found deep in Germany must have reached you. They have found horrible camps, Oliver. Camps of death, grotesque medical experimentations and the annihilation of a race of people who have done nothing other than be born. How can humans commit such atrocities? It’s too hard to write about…..

I wish you were here with me….

 **Love** ,  
Felicity

~~~~~~

April 1945

 **My Dearest Felicity** ,

I can think of no words that can help either of us understand the monstrosities of humanity. I can only say that we must learn from history and hope we can prevent things from ever happening again. It is perhaps a hopeless dream because we both know our world will always have war. It is our nature. But we can hope.

President Roosevelt has died. My nation mourns a good man. Fears of what that may mean to the war effort is a natural thought even as I see the Allies advance further into Germany and our forces take the island of Okinawa. We have finally taken one of the Japanese mainland islands, but at the expense of the blood of over 35,000 of our soldiers. I hope we have put fear into our enemies hearts….

 **All my love,**  
Oliver

~~~~~~

May 1945

Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, dearest, they have surrendered. The Germans have surrendered.  
I can’t stop crying. Crying for the end of our war. Crying with joy and with sadness for all that has been lost…for the safety of my country and my people…

 **Forever Yours,**  
Felicity

~~~~~

September 1945

**My Dearest Felicity,**

It is over. Our war is over. But what have we done?

This bomb that we created…Hiroshima...Nagasaki....we are all in shock. We are so thankful that Japan has surrendered, but Felicity my love, at what cost to our souls? I didn’t think my soldier hardened heart could be torn in anymore directions. The relief that it is all over, that our men and women will be coming home to their families weighs against the many we had to kill for that to happen. I don’t know what to feel. The Japanese would never have stopped Felicity….they would have kept coming and coming...I wish you were here to tell me what to feel. To hold me….

 **Love,**  
Oliver

~~~~~

**July 1946**

A light summer breeze blew wisps of Felicity’s hair across her face. Oliver could not stop staring at the beauty in front of him as he leaned forward and kissed her. His wife.

Laughter and cheers from his family and friends, including Tommy and Laurel holding their newborn son, surrounded them after the minister said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,”

The sun was shining bright as they held their small private ceremony in the garden of Oliver’s neighborhood church. It’s gothic architecture stunning and unusual, but one of many things that made his hometown of Scranton, Pennsylvania so unique.

Oliver pulled Felicity behind some rose bushes and kissed her again as they were all making their way to their home for the reception.

“Hello, wife,”

“Hello, my darling husband,”

~~~~~

Oliver and Felicity had both been discharged from their respective military branches within 6 months of the ending of WW2. Felicity had a heart full of adventure and ventured to America where she accepted Oliver’s proposal of marriage. She found her calling in photography and she and Oliver opened up a photography shop in downtown Scranton where it still stands today, run by their daughter, Marie.

They had grown to love and respect each other through one of the most terrifying experiences either of them could have ever imagined. They fell in love despite a war.

~~~~

The End


End file.
